Opal and Ebony
by Cleo Burton
Summary: I wrote this for Cheryl Dyson as a Christmas present. Draco runs a stuffy ministry function, only to find he may be getting a little more than sloshed tonight. Total fluffsmut. The dog is so random, but I believe Harry is a doglover at heart.


**Opal and Ebony**

**A Draco/Harry Christmas Fic**

_**AN- For Cheryl Dyson, who requested a Draco/Harry fic in her Christmas list. I also managed to utilize some prompts of hers.**_

_**AAN- Andrea makes a cameo appearance, and Cedric is alive because I said so!**_

**Prompts: Peaches, Red Ribbon, Snow, Spiral Staircase**

Draco whirled around the ballroom, arm in arm with his blonde date. Dominique, for all her beauty, held no attraction for him. Her vicious blue eyes bore into him, and even the smile of her soft pink lips seemed severe. Her expression was mostly hidden, obscured by her gold mask. Her opulent golden gown swished noisily as he lead her in a perfect waltz to the music of a violin quartet.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Malfoy said as he released her shoulders. She shrugged those bony, slender shoulders and strutted across the floor. It wasn't long before some handsome brunette began to come on to her.

The Ministry's annual Holiday Masquerade Ball had been largely successful with record attendance. People in their formal best were mingling around the dance floor, many of them in bright, happy holiday colors, some in opulent silvers and golds. Draco felt somewhat out of place, dressed in midnight black with only a few silver accents. His slightly long hair was pulled into a pathetic little ponytail at the base of his head and his black mask was slightly obscuring his vision. He felt annoyed that his "date" (though he used that term loosely) had ditched him, slightly depressed that he was alone, and angry that he had been made to run this pathetic little function. But mostly, he was bored.

The giant clock tolled 11. Midnight was the time to yearn for. Because he was more than likely going to be addressed, Draco had to stay until the party broke up completely. He envied those who could just trickle in and out as they pleased.

As Draco made his way to the bar, he noticed the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. Draco's polar opposite, the only thing on him that wasn't white was his thatch of black hair and a few black accents. The unruly tangled mess of his hair seemed so familiar. He was talking to a man behind the bar who was slicing peaches to put into cocktails. His voice was like a healing salve to Draco's long-aching heart.

"Malfoy?"

Draco jumped and suddenly went on the defensive. Nobody had referred to him by his surname since school, and frankly he didn't want to hear it.

"Wow, it's been a while."

"Potter," Draco half spat, half breathed the name. He knew it was Potter because of the lightning scar just barely making an appearance and the eyes—green slashes beneath his pristine white mask.

"So it was you who planned this cockamamie operation, eh?" God, his lips were perfect! A flawless double curve over pure white teeth, Draco wondered what it was like to kiss them.

Draco took the nearest cocktail with a peach slice in the bottom and half-guzzled it. He strived for an answer… nothing came to mind except; "I want to fuck you, Potter."

He flushed at his own thoughts. Harry jerked his head in the general direction he was headed. Draco followed numbly, watching the other man's long, lean legs move with slight ruffles of the pristine fabric. Pale-haired, black-clad Draco felt so different next to an opal personified, with the thatch of black hair he wanted so badly to push his hands into.

"So," Harry stopped abruptly, leaning against the stone wall at the top of the spiral staircase. "Care to tell me what's happening in the world of Draco Malfoy?"

"Well…" Draco hardly knew where to begin. What on earth would be interesting to Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World and Auror Supreme? "I wanted to become an Auror, but I failed the practical exam."

"You?" Harry exclaimed, half-teasing.

"Yes, Potter, I failed," Draco spat. "However, when I was helping Donna Summers, the old PR woman, with a party she was working on, she decided to hire me as her assistant. I've been working in the Ministry's Public Relations and Social Events since."

Harry tossed his hair over his shoulder with a sigh; "Well, Ginny and I broke up."

"I thought you and the Weaslette were destined," Draco said with a sneer. "What ever happened."

"Shut your trap, Malfoy," Harry hissed. "She just… held no attraction for me anymore."

"Why is that do you think?" The Slytherin leaned against the wall and gazed at Potter, who was clutching his drink, suddenly slightly downtrodden. Draco felt like a shrink, but he figured, _'can't hurt my chances, can it?'_

"Well…" Harry paused and flushed. It was the single hottest thing that Draco had ever seen, that luscious stain of pink across his cheeks. "I made… a confession… that I used to have these feelings back in school. I used to think I was just… curious and thought I would outgrow them eventually. I never did."

"But…" Draco put his fingertip to his chin. It suddenly dawned on him. "So you're—"

"Yeah," Harry interjected. "I was always attracted to this one guy, but he didn't even know I existed."

Draco honestly never would have guessed, especially in his super-butch teenaged years, that Harry Potter swung that way. Draco felt the sudden urge to want to tuck that black hair behind his ears and brush his fingertips along those beautifully pink cheekbones.

Suddenly, a smile graced his angel's face; "This party is dryer than my martini. Want to have some fun?" 

Draco flushed at how suggestive the Gryffindor Virgin just sounded. Draco shrugged, striving for nonchalance; "Sure."

"I'm just going to let Andie and Cedric know I'm leaving," Potter gulped the last of his drink. Malfoy flushed even deeper, even though he was probably redder than holly berries.

A few minutes later, Potter has both his and Draco's cloaks slung over his muscular arms. He smiled briefly before leading Draco by the wrist down the staircase and out onto the snowy walkway. White pieces of icy fluff feel from the dark sky and melted into Harry's hair. Potter's hand was still wrapped intimately around Draco's wrist, while Draco told himself he did _not_ feel a thrill at the intimate little touch. Harry pulled out his wand and soon, Draco felt the uncomfortable squeezing sensation of _Apparation._

When the effects passed, Draco cracked open his moon-grey eyes. They were in a large but comfortable flat, done in shades of deep blue and gray. Despite its stylishness, however, it was a mess. Without a woman to follow him around with a broom and dustpan, Harry had become something of a slob in his solitude.

"Sorry about the mess," Potter smiled sheepishly. He whipped out his wand and vanished a bulk of the mess somewhere. "Make yourself comfortable while I change."

Draco did _not_ want to think of Harry fucking Potter changing, those white dress robes whisking over his head and down his lean legs to reveal hard, tanned muscles. The force of the image was so shocking, the Slytherin had to sit.

It wasn't long before Harry came out of the general vicinity of the kitchen, holding two shot-glasses and a bottle marked '_tequila' _whatever that was. He looked just as good in muggle jeans and a black t-shirt with 'ACDC' across the chest. His pristine white mask had been abandoned, and without ugly spectacles and the mask to mar it, his beauty was breathtaking. How could Draco not have noticed the beautiful, high cheekbones, the perfectly strait nose, and the long, soot-colored lashes? He looked infinitely fuckable as he crossed the room with long, graceful strides and popped a silvery disk into a contraption. Music suddenly came blasting out of the speakers surrounding them. It startled Draco at first, but he began to relax, especially when Harry slid next to him and poured him a drink.

The yellowy liquid burned the whole way down and took Draco's breath away. He had downed the entire shot in one gulp and suddenly regretted it. That is, until he felt a fog begin to settle over his mind. What was this stuff that it would begin to affect Draco so quickly?

"Careful," Harry laughed, also downing his shot in one try. "This stuff will knock you strait on your ass."

"What is this stuff?" Malfoy asked, sniffing the glass tentatively.

"Muggle alcohol," Harry said with another smile, mussing his hair a little. Draco hadn't noticed it was long enough to just obscure his eyebrows. Apparently, he had pulled it back a little at the party. "Stronger than Firewhiskey can ever hope to be!"

Despite the uncomfortable burning sensation in caused, Draco drank half the bottle with Harry. It wasn't long before he went beyond pleasantly tipsy and strait to foxed. As the amount of liquid in the bottle went down, Draco felt himself relax further. He and Harry giggled through three muggle rock CDs, two rounds of Secrets and Lies, and about an hour of boy-hood reminiscing.

"So Malfoy," Harry preempted as he stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Ever have a crush on anyone in school?"

The alcohol had made Draco more honest than he should have been; "Maybe one or two people."

"Who?" Harry asked, his face dead serious.

Draco looked away, flustered. He couldn't really form a coherent thought, but he knew that if he disclosed the information Harry sought, he would probably be kicked out of the flat so forcefully, he would be picking bits of Potter boot out of his butt for weeks.

Harry turned Draco's face towards him. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol, chocolate, peaches, and something he couldn't quite identify. _Eau de Potter._ Essence of Harry.

"You look hot right now," Harry said, fingering the buttons on Draco's shirt suggestively. The mask and jacket had long been discarded in his drunken haze. "Want to change into some muggle clothes. They're cooler than this."

Draco felt the heat creep up his face. He couldn't breath through the heat as Harry's warm breath tickled his cheek. Draco was barely able to nod an affirmative before Harry pulled him to his bedroom.

Whatever Draco had expected for Harry's bedroom, it definitely wasn't this. Not the opulent red velvets draping the windows, the rich matching silks on the mahogany four-poster bed, and the pristine cream-colored carpet. Candles illuminated the room, casting a soft, golden glow on the whole room.

Draco shuddered as Harry slid his hands beneath his waistband and pulled his shirt free. He leaned in and rested his head at the crook of Draco's neck, breathing hotly on the sensitive flesh. His soft black hair tickled Draco's cheek as he felt the coolness of the air touch his bare flesh.

Harry stepped back and admired Draco appreciatively. Harry stepped back and pulled a gray t-shirt that had 'Punk' emblazoned across the chest from the closet without taking his eyes from Draco's. They were like molten pools of pure emerald for all they sparkled. Harry forcefully pulled the other man's arms above his head and yanked the shirt on. It probably fit Harry rather snugly across the chest, because it was loose all the way down to his hips.

Harry at that point dropped to his knees and undid Draco's trousers, his long hands lingering on the task at hand. Draco knew his passion would spring free the second that zipper was undone , due to his lack of undergarments. Once the trousers were around his ankles, Harry pulled a breath through pursed lips and clenched teeth—an appreciative hiss. He stood, backing to the closet once more to pull out a pair of dark blue jeans.

As Draco stepped into them and made to pull them up, Harry's hands stopped him. With agonizing slowness, Harry pulled the pants by two belt loops and pulled them over Draco's shapely arse.

"So beautiful," Harry murmured breathily. Draco flushed as Harry made sure his bits were tucked away before pulling up the zipper.

An impulse prompted Draco to reach out ever so gently and place his fingertips on Harry's flat, rock-hard abdomen. Even through the T-shirt, he could feel the gentle planes of his rippled muscles. Harry sighed in pleasure and contentment. He suddenly reached around and pulled the red ribbon holding Draco's ponytail in place, the soft blonde hair falling just to his shoulders. Draco dared a peek at himself in the mirror—he looked like the angsting 19-year-old that he was, unlike the cool façade that he kept.

"You look so hot, Malfoy," Harry said, pressing his lips to Draco's. It was the first kiss Draco had received in a long time, and by far the best. But maybe it was just Harry.

Suddenly, he felt something around the back of his neck. Harry was holding Draco's head to his own via the red ribbon that he so recently tore out of Draco's hair.

Harry's kisses were biting, bruising, and they almost hurt—that is, until Harry gently apologized by running his tongue along the other man's swollen bottom lip.

"Want to fuck you, Malfoy," he managed to gasp.

Draco groaned plucking Harry's shirt from his waistband and yanked it over the deeply muscled body. A small necklace on a silver chain dropped and tapped against Harry's chest. Once Harry's shirt was off, he shoved Draco to the bed and began kissing again.

Malfoy had some trouble with Potter's buttons and zippers on his jeans, but he was patient, and finally managed to shed the confining denim without even a thought at breaking the kiss.

Harry dropped his hand below Draco's shirt and slid the fingers up soft, smooth skin. Draco gasped as firm fingers twisted his nipples and pulled firmly. A hot, wet mouth attatched itself to his throat and sucked, causing Draco to make a sound that was mortifyingly un-Malfoy like.

"Oh, Harry." The Slytherin wrapped long, lithe arms around the bare shoulders. He slid a hand down the Gryffindor's back, feeling the soft silk of his boxers.

Harry broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering at Draco. He finally began to undress Draco, fist the shirt, then the jeans. When they got to silken boxers, Draco bit his lip and tossed his head back. He knew that being undressed by The Chosen One was a special treat and he should savor it, but his passion was definitely evident, pressed so intimately against Harry's flat stomach.

Harry suddenly moved down and Draco felt like he was going to come with the simple sensation of the delicious friction involved. He felt his boxers leave him and they slid down his long legs and a hot mouth was suddenly enveloping his cock.

Draco's eyes bugged out and he grasped the black thatch of hair hovering over his groin roughly. He bucked and attempted to get more friction when Harry stopped sucking him, but he soon had a hold of Draco's hips and was going agonizingly slow. He drew his lips and then his teeth ever so gently around the engorged organ.

Draco had never felt a sensation quite like this one: Harry's lips bringing him closer and closer to orgasm. His breathing became more labored as he arched his back, feeling close to coming. Harry must have sensed it when he heard Draco's moans, so he grabbed tightly onto the base of his cock, stopping the impending explosion.

"Please, Harry," Draco breathed with uninhibited desire.

Harry wordlessly summoned his wand from wherever his pants had been discarded and conjured a handful of lubricant. He waited for it to warm before spreading it over Draco's tight opening. Draco nearly had to bite his lower lip off to stop himself from mewling in pleasure.

"Do you want me, Malfoy?" Harry asked roughly as he pushed a finger, then two, inside Draco.

When Harry's fingers scissored widely, Draco suddenly forgot his snappy retort.

"It's so hot inside you, Malfoy," Harry said, turning his hand and brushing his finger over something that made Malfoy jump halfway out of his skin. Harry smirked at that and kept touching that one spot, enjoying the sight of Draco tossing mindlessly on the bed.

Draco tried to spread his legs wider, ridiculously trying to make it easier for the other man. He suddenly realized his ankles were still bound by his jeans and underwear. Harry grinned sardonically and, without removing his fingers from Draco (he had added a third) peeled the offenders off of his ankles.

Finally free of his confines, Draco splayed his legs, revealing himself entirely to the damnable Chosen One. However, at this point, Draco was not above throwing himself at Harry's feet like one of his adoring fans and lavish him with praise until he agreed to fuck Draco senseless.

Harry's fingers pulled out, earning a petulant cry from Draco. He heard a moan and looked down to see Harry rubbing his hand up and down his own cock with erotic determination, spreading lubrication. Harry leaned forward, lining himself up, and began to push gently.

Draco winced at being suddenly impaled. Harry managed to get the head in, but had to stop as his moans went up an octave—a sound that made Draco's bones turn squishy. _Fuck _it wasn't pleasant! Harry pushed a little further, ever so slowly, until he was buried to the root. He moved once and Draco felt shards of pain in his nether-regions. Harry wrapped his fist around Draco's cock and pulled lightly, twisting it gently, causing Draco to squirm painfully. Harry moved again—a delicious thrust—and Draco saw white. He cried out, burying his hands into Harry's hair as he began to find a rhythm.

He felt Harry's cock brush against what his fingers had found earlier and forgot his rhythm. Draco attempted to match every thrust, planting his feet on either side of the brunet's hips and moving his own hips.

"Oh, god Draco!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing onto his shoulders. It was the first time Harry had ever said his first name, and Draco felt something slice through him that he couldn't quite identify with.

He couldn't focus on it for very long, Harry so intimately moving inside of him. He surprised Draco by suddenly sitting up, pulling Draco with him until he was straddling Potter's lap. He thrust upward roughly, causing Draco to moan and sigh. Harry was grunting with the effort.

"Draco… I-I can't!" he exclaimed, his nails digging tiny crescents into the small of Draco's sweaty back.

"Let it out, Harry," Draco panted, still holding onto the silky black thatch of Harry's hair.

He felt Harry swell a little inside as he came, crying out his name. The casual and passionate use of his _first_ name caused Draco to tighten and spill his own orgasm between the two sweaty 19-year-olds.

The whole evening crashed in on Draco as he fell back, naked, onto Harry's bed. He could have sworn he felt a soft kiss and a strong arm wrap around his waist, but then again that may have been a dream.

It could have been minutes, hours, or even days, before Draco was awakened by a heavy, furry projectile. Draco awoke to the furry, droopy visage of a giant St. Bernard. He very nearly shrieked, falling out of the bed and pulling the silk sheet with him with a loud _thump._

"Draco, you all right?" Harry asked worriedly yet groggily, apparently awakened by Draco's spectacle.

"Fine," Malfoy rubbed his backside. "My pride's a little bruised, but otherwise…"

Harry shrugged, his already messy black hair even more mussed. His lower extremities were covered by the duvet, but otherwise, he was naked. He turned to the giant dog, mussing the fur around its neck and cooing at it.

"Hey, boy," he said as the beast tried to slobber his master a big, wet kiss. "Draco, this is Taz, my little baby."

"Little _baby?_" Draco exclaimed, getting on the bed and pulling the sheet with him.

"He was a lapdog when he was a puppy and he's never quite gotten over it."

"Hey, you decent?" asked a soft voice from the door.

Taz settled between the two men and rested his big head on Draco's lap. Harry wrapped his arm around Draco and called, "It's ok!"

Andie came in, wrapped in her winter jacket, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had already gone home after the party and changed, so it was definitely very early morning. She grinned sardonically.

"I see you two had fun," she giggled. "Just bringing Taz home. Cedric wants to babysit again sometime."

Harry laughed as his sister crossed the room and planted a careful kiss in his hair. She then swept out of the room and closed the door.

"What was that all about?" Draco asked angrily.

"Well…" Harry blushed lightly.

"Well… _what?_"

Harry started to twist his fingers together in his lap; "I have been attracted to you for some time Draco. If you don't like it, then you can leave. But when Andie told me that you were running that stiff, old party, I begged her to drag me along. Otherwise, you _know _I wouldn't be caught dead at one of those stuffy functions. I guess my luck paid off."

"And here I thought I would be seducing you," Draco laughed, pushing Taz's big head off of his lap and crawling over to Harry."

"So you're not mad?" Harry asked, flinching a little. He honestly expected Draco to still rebuff him, despite everything that had happened that night.

And despite the fact that Taz was trying to get in the middle once again through petulant whining and determined pawing, Draco matched Harry's claim with a scorching, smoldering kiss.


End file.
